


Guardian

by Maisie_Ackerman



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angels AU, Anxiety, But don't be mistaken, Cancer, Child Abuse, Connor is sweet and precious, Drugs, Except maybe one, F/F, Guardian Angel! Connor, Happy Ending, Heaven Hell and Purgatory AU I guess, I'm sorry idk why i hurt you my children, It's so gay i s2g, Kinda using biblical lore, M/M, OCs - Freeform, Romance, So much angst, Suicide, a n g s t, but I'm taking a LOT of liberties, but it's also a feel good story I promise, he's also an asshole, i swear this is cuter and fluffier than it sounds, no one is straight, pretty much all other characters are OCs, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maisie_Ackerman/pseuds/Maisie_Ackerman
Summary: After Connor killed himself, things happened in a blur. He'd woken up in the bottommost levels of Purgatory because apparently that's where all the suicide cases landed... What struck Connor the most about Purgatory, though, was how…not alonehe was. And it was then Connor had to wonder: How could so many people die hurting the way he had?And that was the moment Connor made up his mind to do something about it.





	Guardian

After Connor killed himself, things happened in a blur.

He'd woken up in the bottommost levels of Purgatory. Apparently that's where all the suicide cases landed. It was this giant mountain surrounded by nothing but water. Well. Kinda. It looked like water anyhow. However, Connor had learned quickly enough to stir clear of it, or risk being dragged into the depths of Hell by the tortured souls clamoring to escape.

Connor had been given a choice then: Make his way through the levels of Purgatory, to the top of the mountain and get into Heaven, or burn forever in the fiery pits of Hell.

Yeah, it wasn't a tough choice.

What struck Connor the most, though, about his time in Purgatory was how… _not alone_ he was. And he didn't just mean the people who were there in Purgatory with him either. He meant the sheer number of people who were there for the exact same reason he was.

How could so many people be suffering in the exact same ways and yet never find each other? How could so many people feel alone when they really weren't? How could so many people die thinking that no one cared? Thinking that they were just going to disappear and no one would care? How could so many people die hurting the way he had?

It took Connor two years to make his way through Purgatory, and by that time, he'd made up his mind. He wanted to do something about it. He was going to help these people. The ones who had died thinking they were alone, and the ones who were still alive and suffering now.

But how?

Well, the dead couldn't do much, that was true, but there were still beings who could help. Beings who could help because they weren't dead. They were immortal. These were the Angels. Strong and kind and brilliant in every way imaginable. They were the most perfect beings in the world. And they made Connor want to gag.

Seriously, Connor would have rather pissed on an sparking electrical cord than become one of these fluffy, feathery assholes but if that was the only way he was going to be able to help anyone, he supposed he had no other choice. The problem was becoming an Angel wasn't easy. In Heaven, there were only two ways of becoming an Angel, neither of which were a cake walk.

Option number one: Become a Saint and be given the opportunity to be reborn as an being he wants short of a god. Well, killing himself, taking his anger out on his sister, calling his mom a bitch, getting into fights at school and a plethora of other things had already made that pretty much impossible, but to be fair it was already pretty much impossible for anyone, given the actual requirements for becoming a Saint. Seriously, you had to _perform a miracle._ What the fuck did that even mean? Did they want him to walk on fucking water? Turn water to wine or blood or whatever the fuck they turned it into in the Bible? Connor felt like making it through the hellhole that was Purgatory was a miracle in and of itself, but apparently that didn’t count.

So Connor had turned to option number two: Earning his way in. By becoming a Guardian Angel.

Now you might be thinking, Guardian Angels are Angels, so mission success, right? Wrong. Guardian Angel was a far from glamorous job. Connor’s job, and his only chance at becoming a real Angel, was to get someone into Heaven. He succeeded, he became an Angel. He failed, he started all over again with a new mortal. And once you became a Guardian Angel, you were stuck with it until you completed the job.

True, the job sounded easy enough when Connor first started. Get some random fucker into Heaven and he was on his merry way as one of the most powerful beings in the universe. However, Connor quickly learned two lessons about being a Guardian Angel: One, the human lifespan is way longer than he anticipated and two, most humans did not make it into Heaven.

The first mortal Connor got stuck with was a boy from Scotland named Noah Mitchell, and Noah was a fucking mess. The anger issues started in his first year of primary school and they only got worse from there.

Now, Connor would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt for the little fucker, being from a pretty poor family, with a shitty alcoholic mom and no dad to speak of, but it was hard getting a kid into heaven when he was fist fighting and school and flipping teachers the bird every five seconds. And normally Connor would have chalked it all up to the kid just being a terror, but he couldn’t.

As his Guardian Angel, Connor was always there. Always watching over him. He wasn’t just there when Noah was cursing out teachers and threatening to burn down other kids houses, he was also there for all Noah’s breakdowns, crying in his room, and all the times he had to pick his drunkass mother off the floor and put her to bed. And it was hard not to feel for him.

When Noah turned sixteen things went from bad to worse. While Noah had found friends at his school, they weren’t exactly good ones. That’s when Connor learned that alcohol problems apparently run in families.

Noah Mitchell died of alcohol poisoning at 2:45 AM on December 2nd, at the age of seventeen.

Connor’s next target had been a baby girl named Lillian Martin who lived in the states. Her father had been arrested for violent drug crimes and her mother was a crack addict. She lived in one of the worst neighborhoods in New York, in a home that always had some kind of trouble passing through it.

Still, Connor had enjoyed watching over Lillian. She was an innocent surrounded by a world of fucked up. However, Connor had always a feeling that when Lillian grew up, she’d be better than her family. She’d get herself out of all this and make something really special of herself. He just knew it. He could feel it, every time he looked at her.

Only, Lillian never got the opportunity to grow up.

It was the middle of summer when Lillian’s crack addict mother was so fucking out of her mind that she left Lillian in the car after she got home from some meet-up or another. Connor had tried to do something. Anything. But he could be seen. Couldn’t be heard. He couldn’t do anything, but watch as the hours passed by.

Lillian Martin died of heatstroke at 4:16 PM on August 14th, at only eleven months old.

Connor would have thought that as an innocent, Lillian would get into heaven, but the most fucked up part of it was, that babies that weren’t baptised didn’t get into Heaven. They were sent into Limbo, in Purgatory. Connor had tried to get them to make an exception. Said that he’d even continue to work as a Guardian Angel if they just let to poor kid in, but no exception was made, and Connor was sent back to earth.

By Connor’s third attempt, he’d decided he wasn’t going to get attached to his mark, a girl by the name of Ashley Lewis, who lived in a sunny little town in Northern California. However, it was hard to keep his hopes down when it came to Ashley.

Ashley was a ray of sunshine, raised on a picturesque little farm where her mom and dad bred and sold horses. She was a modern day little cowgirl, something Connor probably would have gagged at in his past life, but at this point it was a nice reprieve from all the shit he’d seen while taking care of his last two charges.

Ashley was a straight A student, with nice friends, who went to pool parties and ice cream parlors on the weekends. She wanted to be a vet when she grew up and start a no-kill animal shelter. She was practically a Saint, minus the miracle.

And then Ashley got into college, in LA, and little miss, small town farm girl moved to the big city, bringing all her cute little dreams with her, along with all her clothes and a new mini fridge. And that’s around the time all Connor’s hopes were shattered, again.

Ashley met guys at college. Guys who invited her to parties. Parties were said guys did a lot of drugs, and parties where Ashley met one guy in particular, who she then started to date for the next few years. The guy who was personally responsible for Ashley's downway spiril.

Now, Ashley never actually did any drugs. Connor would give her that much, but what she did do was sell them, her and her boyfriend both. Not that Connor had anything against drugs. He’d done plenty in his life. But it didn’t help Ashley with her case in Heaven. And what didn’t help either was the violence that came along with what Ashley was doing.

One evening, just two weeks of Ashley’s 22nd birthday, one of Ashley’s regulars came by for his usual fix without the cash and determined to get what he came for. If Ashley had been smart, if she had just done what the man had told her, she might have survived that night, but that wasn’t quite how things went down. Instead, Ashley had been stubborn. She told the guy she’d hand over the goods when he came up with the cash. Told him to fuck off before she called someone to come and make him.

She hadn’t known he’d had a gun on him.

Ashley Lewis died of blood loss at 3:47 AM on March 23rd, at the age of twenty-one.

Three charges. All dead. All in Hell or Purgatory or Limbo or wherever the fuck they had landed, but none of them in Heaven. Three lives. Three people who Connor had failed. Three people who Connor had been in charge of protecting and he hadn’t even been able to do that right. Three people who died miserably and it was all his fault. Three people who couldn't even catch a break in death because Connor had fucked up. Just like he always did.

And yet, he couldn’t quit now. Not even if he wanted to. He was forced to continue until he succeeded. Only then would he be able to put an end this painful cycle. Only then could he become an Angel and help those who felt just as alone as he did. Only then would he ab able to help those like Noah Mitchell, and Lillian Martin and Ashley Lewis. Only then would he be able to do some good with his pathetic existence.

And that’s when Connor got stuck with Sam Michaels.


End file.
